When my long time dog Bandit died years ago, there was no way I was ready for another one. I was crushed. Lost. In need of some soul repair.
A few weeks later, friends that worked at the Calgary Humane Society were sending links and profiles of dogs up for adoption. "Guys, please stop. I'm just not ready!!" I would say, but they were persistent. They knew my life was better with a dog and vice versa.
Little did I know my wife and son were secretly going to visit a dog named Yeti, that they quickly changed to Eddie and we were well on our way to adoption.
So, we got him and he was nuts. Bat $hit crazy if you will. I wanted to bring him back like several before us but remembered the "furever home" thing and would feel far too guilty. It was an idle threat anyway, I never would.
What I did do though was ask every boxer owner in sight how long they stayed this energetic. "Forever", they would say. Boxers know no other way. At this point I was rooting hard for the other half of this mix (Eddie is a boxer/shepherd).
Many trips to the vet later, he swallowed a stick and busted a saliva gland, got quilled twice etc etc, Eddie has just passed the 10 year mark in our relationship. Some days we think he's slowing down, but he still catches hot sparks at the campfire and carries around the biggest rocks and trees he can find. I think he's here for a bit yet, and we couldn't imagine life without him.
Happy "Gotcha Day", big man!
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